


And We Fear No Shadows

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Arthur, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Minor Character Death, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in between becoming king, legalizing magic, and making Merlin his Court Sorcerer, Arthur changed. </p>
<p>And Merlin knew there was no going back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Fear No Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> For [NightAurora](http://nightaurora.tumblr.com).
> 
> Quick few notes before you read:
> 
> -The 'Minor Character Death' is labeled as 'minor' because the character doesn't play a significant role in the story. However, they are considered a major character in the series. There are no explicit details, and it is mentioned in passing that they died.  
> -Implied torture, but it never actually takes place during the story.  
> -There is attempted assassination.  
> -This is a dark story, and while nothing is explicit, please read at your own risk. 
> 
> See end notes for who the 'minor' character death is, and other author's notes about the story.
> 
> Enjoy!

~~

| _“We stop looking for monsters under the bed when we realize they are **inside** us.” - Jordyn Berner_ |

~~

There was no going back now.

Merlin clutched the dagger in his hands, fingers trembling as he whispered words under his breath, incoherent, possibly hysteric to the untrained ear. But Merlin was doing more than mindlessly blubbering. This was a careful measure, a procedure that couldn't be interrupted. This was the only hope he had left.

His eyes flashed gold, and he could feel his magic flowing into the weapon. The deed was done.

_This is my last chance,_ he thought bitterly, vainly trying to calm his beating heart. _This is my last chance to make it right._

He felt lost—truly, and honestly, his mind muddled by what was right and what was wrong. He never thought he'd have to do this. Never in his life would he have thought he would have to do something like _this_. Ever since coming to Camelot, he'd been told he was destined for something great, something much greater than he could possibly conceive, but was this truly the result? 

Merlin knew that he had to kill Arthur. It was the only way to save him. 

The notion seemed silly, even to Merlin. How could he save the king if he were to kill him? Merlin had spent the last ten years of his life protecting Arthur, and this is what its come to? That he had to kill him, to save him from himself? Any other time, Merlin would have merely scoffed at the idea, dismissing it without a thought. But now, _now_ things were different. Things had changed in Camelot, for good yes, but also for the worse. 

No one had really noticed it at first, of course not, how could they? Arthur had been a fair and just ruler, and where his father had outlawed the practice of magic, had ruled Camelot with an iron first, Arthur had welcomed it into his lands, with a gentle and steady hand. All the sorcerers and druids had come out of hiding, and the kingdom had been prosperous. The castle was boisterous and loving under his rule. He'd named a servant, himself, the Court Sorcerer. How could anyone possibly conceive the thought in their minds that their beloved king was becoming corrupted? Even Merlin hadn't noticed it, until it was too late. 

Somewhere along the way, Arthur had grown cruel, and twisted. Under the friendly facade of grace and charm, there was something dark. It lurked just below the surface, weaving into his bones, in the crook of a smirk and the tilt of his head. It was a demon, a possession, a taint that Merlin couldn't rid him of, no matter how hard he'd tried.

And of course, Merlin had tried. When he'd first noticed, he'd thought Arthur to be enchanted, for surely his golden king could not be so evil? How could Merlin have guessed that his precious Arthur had become demented, and possessive, over Merlin? How was he to guess that Arthur would go so far as to maim, to torture, to spill the blood of anyone, anyone who dared to get too close to the Court Sorcerer? 

Merlin shivered at the memory. The thought of Gwaine, the proud and glorious Gwaine, being killed because of him, because he was too close to Merlin, because he was Merlin's friend, made him sick to his stomach. There had been a crazed glint in Arthur's eyes as he held him tight, forcing him to watch every second of that public execution. It has been a wordless proclamation, a warning to those who wanted to get friendly with him. 

Merlin had lost count of all the others who'd died the same way. 

Tears threatened to spill, but he blinked them back. No. No, he had to do this. There was little time left.

Because even after everything, Merlin still loved Arthur. He loved him so much that he was willing to kill him before his name was tarnished, before the story of the Once and Future King was shrouded in a darkness that Merlin couldn't illuminate, that he couldn't clear. 

He held the dagger close to his chest. He made his way to Arthur's chambers, the moon lighting his path. 

This was the only way. 

~~

The door scarcely made a sound as he pushed it open, but Merlin's heart was drumming in his ears. His hands felt clammy, and he was scared he was going to drop the knife itself, ruining the plan entirely. 

_This is treason,_ one part of his mind was saying, trying to talk him out of it. _Turn around, go back now. Don't do this, don't kill him, he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve this--_

_He killed Gwaine, your best friend, for getting too close to you,_ the other part of his mind argued, the rational side. _He does deserve it. Remember you're doing him a service? Kill the king before his name is tarnished; kill the king before he does more harm than good._

Merlin drew in a deep breath. He _could_ do this. He was strong. He was the most powerful warlock in all of Albion, and in his dagger was a magic that wouldn't fail to kill any man. He could do this.

His feet were as light as feathers on the floor, and he glided over to the bed, where Arthur slept. Though the curtains were drawn, moonlight still spilled into the room, illuminating his chambers with a pale glow. It gave Arthur's face an ethereal look, and for a second, Merlin could believe that Arthur was fine, that his heart had not been tainted by corruption. 

He clenched his fists. He knew better than to believe such a thing. He let his magic slip from his fingers, searching in vain, one last time for any glimmer of good still in Arthur. 

After a beat, he sighed. Merlin didn't know why he was disappointed. He had known that there would be nothing wrong. 

Arthur slept soundly, his breathing quiet in the still room. His heart ached—must he really do this? Was this the only way?

_Yes._

He closed his eyes, and mouthed, I'm sorry, knowing that Arthur would not hear, that he would not understand why Merlin was doing what he was. But Merlin was saving him, Merlin had sworn long ago to protect Arthur, and if killing him meant that, in the end, he would save him, he would gladly do it. He would gladly pay that price. 

A soft prayer emitted from his throat, begging safe passage to Avalon for King Arthur. 

_May he sleep soundly._

Raising the dagger, he paused for a beat, allowing a single tear to dribble down his cheek. He scrubbed it away furiously, then he thrust the dagger downwards, straight at his target. 

Merlin had not connected with flesh, nor the bedding, or anything at all. No, no, he hadn't hit anything. Instead, Merlin found himself being tossed back, flung by an unseen force against the far wall of Arthur's chambers, and he gasped, trying to suck air back into his lungs.

His mind was racing—what was that? What had happened? Had his magic somehow prevented him from harming Arthur? Had his own magic backfired on him? But then, but then, he felt it—he felt something creep into the room, something dank, and scary, and horrifying and—oh God, oh _God--_

Merlin began breathing heavily. Something felt like it was wrapping around him, enveloping him in an icy chill he couldn't shake off. This was dark magic, something far more sinister than he'd ever encountered. But why was it here? What was it doing anywhere _near_ Arthur--?

“Well, isn't _this_ a surprise.” 

The voice was dark, yet familiar to him, tugging at his heart. Through bleary eyes, Merlin looked up and met steely blue ones, Arthur's eyes boring into him like a predator trapping its prey. Merlin scrambled back as far against the wall as he could, and only then did he notice the amulet around Arthur's neck, pulsating with a strange, orange glow. It reminded him vaguely of the Phoenix Eye bracelet Morgana had given him, all those years ago. The trinket quivered with something evil, that much Merlin could tell. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. However, it couldn't be good by any stretch. 

But as Arthur drew nearer, the darkness coiled around him further, and he pressed his back flush against the wall, trying desperately to get away from it, away from _him_ , his entire body shaking and his mind screaming at him to run away, to run far away, away from whatever the hell was clouding around Arthur--

“ _What,_ ” he breathed, scrambling at the wall for purchase of any kind. His voice was trembling as bad as his body. “What the _hell_ is around your neck. What in—stars above, what is that--!” 

“Oh, this?” Arthur drawled, almost sounding bored. He grabbed the amulet and held it up, and it grew brighter, causing Merlin to let out a pathetic whine. “This is just a little...something I had commissioned. Do you like it? It repels a lot of magic, by absorbing it and sending it back at the person who's tried to harm me. In case you aren't around, that is.” 

He smiled, though his lips were curled into more of a smirk. His eyes strayed to Merlin's side, where the dagger had been dropped. The smile fell instantly, and Merlin felt the rot of the darkness coil around him tighter, making him feel lightheaded. 

Arthur knelt down and picked the blade up. He held it with contempt, eyes narrowed, scrutinizing it. Cold eyes fell back to Merlin, who whimpered at the look. 

“You would kill your king, _Mer_ lin?” he asked, almost thoughtfully, the familiar drawl of the first syllable of his name like a stab to the gut. “You would kill the man who gave you _everything_ , who raised you from the dirt, made you an advisor, a member of the Royal Court, against all the wishes of his council? You would _betray_ me, after all I have done for you?” 

His tone had hardened, his mouth twisted into a sneer. He gripped the dagger tightly by the handle. “I'm disappointed, Merlin. I expected better of you.” 

_This is it,_ Merlin thought numbly. _This is finally where I'm going to die. He's going to kill me. I'm finally going to die and it's going to be by his hand, of all things._

“Although, I suppose, maybe I am mistaken,” Arthur mused, twirling the weapon idly in his fingers. “Things have changed recently. People don't know how to keep their hands to themselves, and it's clear to me now that your mind has been muddled. You've forgotten where your loyalties lie. I warned you this would happen, didn't I? Tell me, darling, which one of my knights so lovingly _persuaded_ you to make an attempt on my life? Which one of them corrupted you, and tried to use you against me?” 

_No._ Merlin's breathing quickened. Arthur was going to make him choose who would die next? Merlin couldn't speak. He would not condemn another man to death for his own infractions. He bit his lower lip. 

“No, sire, you're mistaken. My actions are my own. I act alone. This is my choice--” he began, his tongue shooting out the words quickly, hoping and praying to every god in existence that Arthur would choose to spare them, that he would kill Merlin and be done with it. 

“Oh, no,” Arthur clicked his tongue, and knelt down in front of him, tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. “No, Merlin. I know that's not you. I know you wouldn't act against me like that. You're far too loyal, I know that. You needn't protect them. A name, my darling pet, and whomever has harmed you will be done away with.”

Merlin wanted him to get away, Merlin didn't want to be touched, not by him, not by anyone. He'd never experienced fear such as this, never felt something so wretched, so horrible. He wasn't even embarrassed to admit it this time. He was afraid. He was afraid of Arthur, of what Arthur would do to him, but more importantly, what Arthur would do to anyone else. “I act on my own whims, sire. I wanted you dead. I seek revenge for Gwaine.” 

He was shaking to his very core, his entire being and soul, terrified of what kind of pain his once friend would inflict upon him with this newfound knowledge.

His words were only partially a lie. He didn't want Arthur dead, not really, but he did want revenge for Gwaine. Maybe getting revenge would ease the burning sting of regret he felt. 

But Arthur only chuckled, and gripped his chin a little tighter. “Now, we know that's not true. Gwaine was a nuisance, a virus that sought to raze you. Tell me, Merlin, who put you up to this?”

He bit down on his lip, in case a name was to slip out. No one had put him up to this, but some sick part of him wanted to blurt out the name of a knight, just to get Arthur away, just to get him away from his person. He wouldn't condemn anyone like that, though; he wouldn't condemn someone to a sick, torturous death. He would die a hundred times over before he let that happen.

“No one,” Merlin bit out, breathing heavily, his voice cracking. “No _one_. It's all me, it's all me, I swear.” 

Arthur hummed, before he pulled his hand away. But that wasn't the end of it, Merlin could feel that much in his bones, in his very being. He had an inkling deep in his body that he wasn't leaving this room anytime soon. 

“Very well,” Arthur conceded, before his smile returned—dark, cruel, and wicked once more. His eyes glinted, and where once Merlin would've seen courage, strength, and hope, he now saw malice, and flecks of insanity. “If you won't tell me willingly, I suppose I'll have to use other means to get you to open up.” 

His fingers still wrapped firmly around the knife hilt, Arthur brought up his other hand and grasped Merlin's throat in a tight hold. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to make sure Merlin knew it was there. It was a warning, a threat. Panic seized him, but he didn't dare move, didn't dare to try and use his magic again. 

Arthur was going to force a name out of him, no matter what. This, he realized, was his punishment. This was how Arthur was going to make him pay for his disobedience. Someone was going to die for his crime, and Merlin was going to choose whom. 

He was afraid. And with the last bit of courage inside him, Merlin screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Minor Character Death refers to **Gwaine**. 
> 
> This story is set in the same universe as a roleplay NightAurora and I are currently doing. This story, however, is entirely my creation. It's me basically wanting to write about the aftershock of Gwaine's death and Merlin attempting to save Arthur in the last possible way--from himself. 
> 
> There's a whole 'verse for this story, but it can be read as a stand-alone piece. 
> 
> Anyway, with all that over, thanks for reading and feedback is _always_ appreciated!


End file.
